Persuasion Isn't Always Pleasant
by Traumatized Dollie
Summary: Two girls, orphaned at an early age and named fourth in line for L's position, withdrew from the race to obtain the fame they now have. Now, after L's death, Mello tracks them down for help in his search for Kira. MattOC, MelloOC. Rating may change.
1. Concert Hall

**Author's Note:** Okay, here's the thing; I'm new here. Super duper uber new. This is my first story here, so of course I haven't gotten everything figured out. If the format's crappy, please, PLEASE just try to ignore it. I'm a bit of a slow learner when it comes to these things. Also, Maiima Neruken and Selini Rokera are my two main OCs. Maiima is called Nerumi Aima, Selini is called Roki Sera. Those are aliases they live under, not two different people.

**Disclaimer:** If Death Note were mine, Light would be locked in a loony bin and Takada and Misa would be hanging from their thumbs in Greenland. The OCs are mine, don't touch those. The lyrics included in this chapter are mine, not my best, but still mine. No touchy. LET IT BEGIN!

* * *

**11:34AM**

**March 3rd, 2012**

**San Francisco, CA, USA

* * *

**

"You're sure these are the girls?"

"Of course. These _are_ the pictures that Watari mailed us."

Matt looked down at the pictures in his hand. They were concert photos, backstage at a Roki Neru Sera Ai show in Tokyo four months ago. The backs of the photos read "Maiima Neruken" and "Selini Rokera" and held images of two girls with bright hair and familiar features. "So these are the girls who almost took our places?"

Mello snorted. "No. They would have been ranked as a tie for fourth in line."

"And we're sure they can help us?"

"Well," the blonde began, "we know that Maiima will. Not only is she against Kira, she hated Near the second she saw him and she's said that she'd do anything to help in the fight against Kira. But the Rokera girl is a Kira supporter. That doesn't mean that she can't still help us, though."

Matt nodded, setting the pictures on the dash board and pushing his goggles a little higher.

* * *

**12:12PM**

**March 3rd, 2012**

**San Francisco, CA, USA

* * *

**

_"It's such a nice night for lighting this town_

_Aflame_

_And when we're the only ones around_

_there's no one no one else to blame_

_We gotta step up and take_

_the punishment proudly_

_Commit the crime, do inevitable time_

_If nothing else, then for the glory_

_But oh with the far-too-specific_

_Death-bringing consequences_

_It's such a shame_

_It's such a shame_

_It's such a shame_

_We're the only ones around tonight_

_To take the blame!," _the voice of Roki Sera rang out through the concert hall, echoing as the song came to an end and her band members stopped playing.

A blonde man and another man in goggles stood, from their place in the back row of the hall, and began walking towards the stage that now held four of the five members of Roki Neru Sera Ai. Their steps were only halted by a high-pitched scream as a mass of pale skin and green hair landed in front of them, standing and sprinting for the stage. "GUYS, THAT WAS EPIC! We are going to kick ASS tonight!"

The man in goggles raised an eyebrow, looking at his partner for answers. The blonde man's eye twitched as he spoke. "That's Maiima Neruken. You have to call her Nerumi while in front of others." His friend nodded, looking back towards the stage and following the blonde as he began walking again.

A man in a black suit, no doubt a body guard, walked up behind Nerumi, tapped her shoulder, and pointed to the two men approaching the stage. The girl turned around, eyes widening, and immediately jumped off the stage, once again running at full speed. She nearly sent Mello to the ground, wrapping her arms around him in a near-violent hug. "Mello! You're okay! Thank God, I thought you'd gotten shot or something!" She stepped back, grinning at him. Then her eyes widened, and she bit her lip, turning around to face her band members. "Um, Roki, c'mere. And guys, can y'all uh... Go get the new drum set out of the truck outside?"

Kat and Eddie nodded, setting down their instruments. Lisabethe glared at Maiima, stepped back from her keyboard, and half-stomped out of the concert hall. Selini rolled her eyes, setting her guitar down and walking towards the trio. She gave Mello a hesitant hug and waved at Matt. Maiima turned back to them, done glaring at the door Lisabethe had exited through. "So why are you guys here? I haven't seen y'all for three years."

"You know that L's been killed by Kira, and you know that Near was named his successor, right?" Mello already knew the answer, and the look on her face just confirmed it. "We're here to ask for your help in catching Kira, so I can take my rightful spot as L's successor, instead of that albino brat."

Maiima nodded instantly. "You actually had to ask for my help? I would've thought the answer to be obvious. I was always in favor of you two, and I know damn good and well that you're both aware of my anti-Kira stance."

"We're not here to persuade you." Mello turned his gaze towards Selini, who was almost glaring at him. "We're here to persuade you."

"Well then you've wasted time and gas. I'm not doing it. What Kira is doing is right and needed in this world."

Mello smirked, as Matt grabbed Maiima around the waist and pulled her twenty steps back with him. Faster than lightning, Mello had a gun in his hand, pointed at the wide-eyed Britian-native in front of him. "Persuasion isn't always pleasant."

* * *

**A/N:** Unlike most authors I've seen around here, I'm not driven by reviews. The extra motivation is nice, but don't worry, I will never make you guys review to get the next chapter. xD Just expect the next chapter... Whenever I get it written.


	2. Step Back Part 1

**A/N:** Today, it's time for a step back into Maiima's past. Mainly because I have _no idea_ what to do from where I left off on chapter one yet.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own, nor did I create the Death Note series. I own the OCs. Nooo touchy.

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** .:Maiima POV:. **

I was born on June 12th, 1995 in Randers, Denmark. My parents were Japanese. However, I was raised in Denmark all my life. My parents were stubborn, refused to move back to Japan after I was born. They disagreed with the government, but they loved Denmark. So we stayed.

Up until 2006, anyway. I came downstairs in our little house one day, and they were gone. Not gone as in disappeared, no. But gone as in lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood. Unfortunately, I still remember it pretty damn well.

* * *

_I was eleven. Head full of curly black locks, light brown eyes that were almost gold, my skin paler than the moon. I didn't like spending time outside._

_My parents and I had moved to Copenhagen, bought a tiny little two-story house. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a tiny library, a kitchen, and even a studio, three of it's walls nothing but windows. Hardwood floors, always covered by tarps; mom was an artist. A painter, in fact. She brought in most of our family's money. Dad was the house-watcher, but he made a sculpture every once in a while._

_I woke up one morning in May, grinning and happier than I'd been in a while. We were going to see my grandparents, all the way in Japan today. I'd never seen them before, and I was excited to meet them for the first time. Hell, I was just excited to get out of that house. I had a weak immune system when I was younger, so I was homeschooled and never let out of the house. Mom was really paranoid._

_I wanted to see mom's newest painting before breakfast, so I picked the lock and snuck into the studio. The painting was gone, two of the windows were broken, and me being the stupid kid I was, I thought nothing of it. I practically skipped downstairs, still smiling widely. My dad wasn't in the library. Mom wasn't in the living room. TV was off. Stereo was unplugged. Computer was off._

'Must be in the kitchen,' _I thought, skipping in there as well. It was weird. The linoleum black-and-white checkered tiles should've been cold on my bare feet. It was actually pretty warm... Kind of wet._

_I looked down, and I would've screamed if I could. There was blood pooled around my feet. I thought _I _was bleeding for a second. Then I noticed it led somewhere._

_Well, I found my parents. They were lying down, behind the granite-topped counter, in a huge pool of blood. Mom was naked and lying face down with what looked like bite marks and claw marks on her back, and it was pretty obvious what led to her death; blunt instrument, probably the bread box, at least eight times in the back of her skull. Her pretty, short black hair was matted with blood and tangled, probably from sleep. Her neck was dark red, no flesh visible through the coating. Dad was face-up, eyes still open, black slacks and white dress shirt already on. My dad was a blonde, but you couldn't tell from looking at the crime scene photos. All his fair blonde hair was colored red, with his own blood. He was mutilated, looked like a standard hunting knife did it. At least twenty cut marks all over him, his white dress shirt barely white at all anymore._

_All the blood was fresh. My mom insisted on educating me about crime scene investigation at a really early age, so I knew how to date bodies pretty well. From the blood, I'd say it had been less than two hours since their deaths._

_I still didn't scream. Didn't even cry. My dad told me that if anything ever happened to them, I was to pack, and run. Run straight to Britain, to London, and find my destiny when it decided to reveal itself there. So I ran upstairs, grabbed two duffel bags, and started piling clothing in them. Pants, shirts, shorts, skirts, dresses, undergarments, shoes... I packed my CDs into one. If I couldn't find a way to use them, I could always sell them. I put my books, notes, and a notebook into the one with clothes, and my drawing/writing utensils into the one with the CDs. I grabbed mom's purse and emptied all of it into my clothes bag. Cellphone, money, our passports, and our plane tickets._

_And I left.

* * *

_

I went back. When I was fifteen, just once. A couple had bought the place, and as their wills had asked, my parents were buried in the backyard under a peach tree they planted when I was born. They always said it grew with me. I always thought they were just being stupid when they said that. But they were right. It had been pretty little when I left. It wasn't that big now, either, but it was bigger, just as I was.

The couple was nice. They served me some tea. Didn't speak English. Didn't speak Japanese, either. I never learned Danish, so we didn't talk.

After I left that place, I did just as dad said. I went to London. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there. I didn't know what dad wanted me to do when I got there. I didn't even know why the other passengers were giving me weird looks. All I knew is that dad wanted me to go there. And dad was never wrong.

I lived on the street for two days. Lucky, huh?

Then Selini found me. She had the bushiest head of brown hair then, and she seemed like a saint with the way she acted. I could've sworn I saw a halo if the light hit her just right. She half-dragged me back to her parents' house and begged for them to adopt me. Turns out, she got that saint-like personality from her dad's side. Her mom wasn't nearly as nice as them. That bitch looked at me like I was her shining little chairty case, some kind of object for her to use and exploit to look better in the eyes of her "friends".

Three years later, we came home from school one day to Selini's parents, in the same position mine had been in when they were murdered. Same amount of strikes to the head on her mom, same amount of cut marks on her dad. I didn't even need to know that much to figure out that it was the same bastard who killed my parents though.

They tried to ship us off to a place called Wammy's House, this huge orphanage for "genius" kids. I was ready to blow the place to bits by the time they actually got me in it. They had torn us away from our friends, from our school, even from our band. Our band which could have been on the verge of gaining the fame we wanted so badly.

I was pissed off. I was stressed. I was mourning. It was all just bullshit. So, when I got there, I was more than ready to start a few fights.

* * *

_Selini was sitting on her bed, on her side of our new room in the orphanage, staring at me while I rampaged away._

_Well, okay, maybe not rampaged. More like angrily pacing and probably scaring the shit out of whoever lived below our room. I was stomping so hard I was surprised I didn't put holes through the floor. I was muttering to myself, the only things audible being swears (mainly f-bombs), and I threw some stuff around once or twice. But it was always a pillow, and I never threw it at Selini. I was really careful around her for a while after her parents died. Plus, it's just kind of rude to fling random shit at your friends while you're having a one-man rage party._

_By the time Selini and I had set up our rooms (she finished two hours faster than me; it tends to go a little faster when you're carefully placing everything, instead of just flinging shit, straightening it, pacing more, and repeating the process) some bell was ringing. My stomach told me that meant dinner time, and no matter how completely pissed off and touchy I was, dinner was something I was always on time for._

_We got lost four times in that damned place, tripped over some albino kid's toys he had out on the floor, and ran into a trigger happy blonde guy who I had to resist tackling for the chocolate bar he had. He looked to be about our age. Selini apparently thought he was cute. And he seemed to be having the same reaction to _something_ as I was to moving in the orphanage._

_We finally found the dinner room, got our dinner, and parted. She wanted to make the best of this place, and went to go meet people. I grabbed my dinner and dragged myself upstairs. I was going to try making friends eventually if I was stuck in here. I just didn't want to talk to anyone but Selini right now. She was the only one who could keep me from losing it._

_However, Plan Avoid-everyone-at-all-costs-no-matter-what became a failure halfway to my room. I crashed right into someone's chest. I looked up, preparing myself for Bitch Fest 2009, and strangely, I couldn't open my mouth._

_"Sorry."_

_Now, lots of people said sorry. Sorry didn't fix anything. As far as I'm concerned, sorry's just something people made up to get back in the good graces of total pushovers. I still couldn't open my mouth though. Probably because of who exactly I was staring at. Well, that and hormones._

_I was staring up into the eyes- er, goggles, since I really couldn't see his eyes through them- of a cute guy with dark brown hair. He had on jeans and socks, but he seemed to have just come out of the shower or something, because he was shirtless, towel around his neck, and damp._

_I have no clue how long I stared at him. I don't think I was really even staring at _him_. Might've just been his chest I was staring at. But he cleared his throat at some point, smirked at me, and pushed past me into his room, leaving me blushing like mad in the hall. And all I knew was that I wanted his name._

_So I went to my room, set my tray on my bed, left Selini a note ("Gone to find some shirtless, goggle-wearing douche bag. If you bring the blonde guy in here, don't do anything on my bed.") tacked to her pillow, and knocked on four doors before I found the right one._

_He opened the door, looking confused. His look of confusion only grew more when I spoke. "What's your name?" I sounded so innocent... I really hoped he fell for it._

_"Matt."_

_I just kept staring at him. Not my wide-eyed, ogling stare, but my eyes-half-lidded analyzing stare. I might've been creeping him out. He might have just gotten tired of some weird girl three inches shorter than him standing in his door way. He had a shirt on, I think._

_"So are you just going to stand there, or are you going to talk?"_

_Supressing the urge to flip him off, I just shrugged._

_"Are you at least going to tell me your name?"_

_I hesitated. I didn't want to give him my real name. Hell, I didn't even _like_ my real name. "... Call me Nerumi," I replied after several long moments._

_I still didn't move. Until I heard something. Sounded like a gunshot going off. He whipped back around, wide-eyed. "SHIT! I thought I paused!"_

_He raced over to the TV in his room. There was an xbox set up. Snacks and game cases and other playing systems and cigarette packets were everywhere. I couldn't help but laugh, especially when I saw that he was playing L4D2, which had just come out a few days ago. He looked over at me, almost glaring. "What's funny?"_

_"Nothing... It's just that this looks almost exactly like the room I had back before my parents were killed," I said with a grin. Most people would've called me sick for grinning and casually mentioning something so tragic. _"Sick sick sick sick sick sick sick, sick!," _they'd say to me, as if they were talking to a dog. But people here, I guess, had gotten over it. Everyone here had been through something that led to them losing their parents. I don't think anyone had the same situation as me, but death wasn't a taboo topic here._

_He grinned back. Then he motioned at the xbox. "You know how to play?"_

_I took that as an invite in, taking a seat next to him on his bed. "'Course I know how to play. I have the original Left 4 Dead in my room right now." I picked up the controller, still grinning. I _always_ played as Nick. He always played Ellis, apparently._

_So we played for a few hours. He offered me a cig, but I refused. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against tobacco or people who use it. I just thought cigarettes tasted like shit. It went from early evening to some time around 11PM, I guess, while we played. My dinner was probably cold. At least I could still eat the apple._

_We only stopped when that blonde from before walked in, talking to someone. That snapped me out of my gamer-daze and I realized that Selini was probably scared as hell. She got pretty paranoid when we found parents' bodies, constantly watching both her back and mine, no matter how much I told her it was okay. I was introduced to the blonde, who's name was Mello. Then I said my goodbyes to them both and ran outside. Ran straight into Selini, who was talking to some girl._

_"Hey, M-"_

_"Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh! Please don't call me that anymore, sis. I've decided to go by Nerumi now."_

_Selini shook her head, smiling. She said goodbye to the happy red haired girl she was talking with and we started off to our room. When we got there, she chose a new name for herself, too. Roki. I thought it was pretty.

* * *

_

We were only there for a little more than a week. I think it was about... Twelve or so days. I gamed the days away with Matt, chose an enemy (this little albino kid with a toy obsession named Near), and I was just starting to settle in when a guy with slicked back hair and a sleazy look in a black suit showed up asking for Selini and me. His name was Maximie Brooks, a name I distrusted from the start. He was from Hollywood, specifically some big record company in America. And he came to us, addressing us as "Miss Neruken" and "Miss Rokera" when he talked to us. When he wasn't talking to us, he called us "the kids" and made me want to kick him in the kneecap.

We were asked if we wanted to go back to our band. We were asked if we wanted to be famous. We said yes, obviously. So we signed the guy's pretty little contract (it was approved by Robert first, of course) and said our goodbyes to our friends. I only had to say goodbye to Matt and Mello. Selini took half an hour finding and saying goodbye to all the friends she had made. And strangely, she didn't tear up. I almost did. I got a hug from Matt, and a mean look and a half-hug from Mello. I gave Matt my gamertag, my email, my real name, and everything.

We met back up with Kat, Eddie, and Lisabethe, our band mates from Roki Neru Sera Ai. Instead of living in Wammy's or some other orphanage or something, we lived in a huge, fancy hotel in three separate rooms. Kat and Lisabethe got one, we got the one next to them, and Eddie got the one next to us. Eddie lived with our "attendant", a guardian assigned to us by the record company. That guy was an asshole. The guardian, not Eddie. Eddie's cool.

However, that guardian was killed. Same position as Selini and I's dads had been in when they were murdered. The killer, who still hadn't been caught due to lack of evidence, had even dragged the body out of Eddie's room and into ours, into the little kitchen area, and left him on the floor like that.

We got two more guardians after that. Both male, same exact thing.

Finally, we faked our own deaths. I made sure to send Watari a message assuring him it was fake, marked with my special signature so he knew it was really me. Selini and I dyed our hair, changed our names to the aliases we had created at Wammy's House, and came back in 2010, telling the record company that we wanted to try bringing Roki Neru Sera Ai back. We succeeded. We became the new lead singer and lead guitarist of RNSA. I was Nerumi Aima, a girl from a tiny farming town in Japan, with yellow-green hair, pale skin, and a dancer's build. Selini was Roki Sera, my older sister, with bright, creamy-orange hair and a tiny frame.

I lost contact with Matt after that. I thought it was best that he not know of my existence in the living world just yet. And it became harder and harder to keep in tact with anyone at all outside the band once we began our rise to the top. Selini turned sixteen, broke away from the record company, adopted me as her charge, and formed her own company. We did pretty well. I became RNSA's roadie and sometimes-lead-singer instead of full time singer, and Selini took over my spot as lead vocalist, keeping her spot as lead guitarist. I took on a manager-ish position, she took on choreographing anything that needed it.

When Kira became a popular topic, we were asked our opinions. I had taken a firm anti-Kira stance. My exact words, on international television, were these:

"While I support Kira's goal, and I wish with all my being that it was attainable, I do not condone or support his methods. Kira, if you're out there listening to this, a god who rules with fear is not a god. He is a petty low life, and no better than any other criminal this world holds."

Selini took a pro-Kira stance. She announced her view right after me.

"I support Kira completely and fully. He or she is what this world really needs right now. They're doing good."

After L's death, my position strengthened. She lost some support for Kira, but still kept her view. I was asked my opinion again.

"Kira, you are nothing more than a lowly, pathetic, murderous bastard. If there is such a thing as the pits of Hell, I hope that that's where you end up. To the successors of L, good luck. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Selini was asked her opinion again as well. She even started tearing up while giving her view. Not even fake tears for the audience, real, geniune tears for L and his successors.

"L's death is truly a tragedy... But a necessary one to bring about the world Kira works towards. To L's successors, please, be careful. Realize and accept a lost war when you see one. Don't follow in L's footsteps... Please..."

I had to put my arm around her and lead her offstage. Lisabethe and Eddie took our places at the awards show this happened at, where we were supposed to be giving away an award for best light show of the year.

Now, here we were. Top of the food chain in the music industry. Face to face with Mello and Matt, the friends who I'd thought I'd lost so many years ago. One of them holding a gun to my best friend's head.


	3. Beelzebub's Ballerina

**A/N:** Um, this isn't quite my... Best work, in my opinion, but it's an idea I've had sitting in my head for two weeks now and I just found myself weaving it into this chapter, and if I take it out and try to rewrite the chapter it's just going to haunt me more and show up later xD; So, here you go.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own, nor did I create the Death Note series. I own the OCs. Nooo touchy.

* * *

**.:Maiima POV:.**

"Persuasion isn't always pleasant."

I elbowed Matt back, grabbed my own pistol from my boot, and pressed it to Mello's temple. "And rejection never is. So if you want my help, lower the gun and let her go."

He glared at me out of the corner of his eye, but lowered the gun. I lowered mine as well, and Selini walked over to me, standing just slightly behind me.

"Selini, go outside. Now."

"But Mai-"

"NOW."

She bit her lip and glared at me as she walked out. She probably thought I just didn't want her to get shot if Mello went all trigger happy again. Which was half right, I guess.

When I knew she was gone, I spoke. "Alright, Mello, listen. I don't like her supporting Kira, and if I could do anything about it, I would have by now." I saw the blonde open his mouth, but I cut him off before he could speak. "And before you start that shit, I am not saying that we should give up entirely. I'm saying putting a god damned firearm to her head won't help anything! If anything, it'll only make her want to help you less. Come up on the stage and we can figure out a plan, alright? One that _doesn't_ involve handguns, hit men, or otherwise."

I _tried_ to climb up on the stage like I normally did, but I fell backwards half way up. Right onto Matt.

And before you go thinking "oh my gosh, this is where they kiss!", no. It wasn't even awkward. I fall on people constantly, and I'm sure Matt didn't care. I just wanted to get off the poor guy (because 121lbs of girl on you probably isn't exactly comfortable) and I would have, had it not been for the entrance door slamming shut and an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh! Would you look at that... Just like with our female fans, eh Nerumi?"

I jumped to my feet, whipped around, and there was Lisabethe. Standing in the door way, looking smug, with a camera phone in hand. I was _past_ glaring daggers. I was glaring lasers and dinosaurs and nukes and murderous clowns and... Dinosaur nukes attached to... murderous clowns that... spit... Um... lasers... Yeah, that works.

"Lisabethe, get the hell out." Venom leaked from every word I spit as I continued staring her down.

She giggled. "Not until you tell me who your new... Well, I assume they're your newest toys..."

I was seconds from metaphorically spitting acid into her pretty little blue eyes, before I came to a realization that instantly dissolved my anger. I had to work with Mello and Matt. But Selini would try to stop that by not letting me take time off from the band... I had to put them in with us somehow... But how?

An idea sparked.

"This," I began, tugging Mello over to me by his shoulder, "is our new body guard. And he," I continued, pulling Matt over by the wrist, "is our new um... Roadie in training!"

Lisabethe smirked, closing her phone. "Well then, I can't wait to see them at the concert tonight." She turned to walk out of the hall.

Eye twitching, I carefully spat my reply from between my clenched teeth. "Keep your hands off, you little brown haired ho ba-"

"DAMN IT NERUMI IF I HEAR YOU THREATENING OR INSULTING LISABETHE ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR ON BENNY I WILL-"

"Roki! I told you to stay outside!" Damn it, damn it, damn it! So much for thinking up a plan to get Selini on our side! "Why are you back in here?"

Selini put her hands on her hips and glared at me. She almost looked like a mother scolding a misbehaved child. "Because Lisabethe said she saw you playing tonsil hockey with Ma-"

"WHAT THE- NO. Beelzebub's Ballerina over there has misinformed the hell out of you!"

Selini pinched the bridge of her nose. "_Stop calling her that_! She isn't _that_ bad!"

"She's evil!," I exclaimed, throwing my hands up for emphasis. Selini just shook her head and walked out.

I turned back to Mello and Matt, who were just staring at me. Matt had a bit of a pink tint, probably from the tonsil hockey comments and the picture that bitch had taken. Mello was just glaring at me, using that "I'm going to impale you on a sword" face again.

"Um, okay, turns out that Mello, you're on guard duty for tonight, and Matt, you're coming back to the control room with me during the show, k? And afterward, we can sneak into the tour bus, lock it, and come up with a plan on how to get Selini's help." I checked my watch. "And shit fucking shitty shit shit shit, we have eight hours left for rehearsals and everything."

I grabbed Matt's wrist and started dragging him towards the door that lead into the parking lot, looking over my shoulder and calling out to Mello as I walked. "Mello, go find Eddie! He has really tan skin, long brown hair in a bun, and he's wearing a Warped Tour 2009 shirt. Tell him you're the new bodyguard, ask for the schedule and entrance info, tell him NeruNeru sent you."

I kept tugging on Matt's wrist, dragging him through the concert hall until we were four feet from exiting, then let go of him and motioned for him to follow me. I thought I saw a glare, but he followed anyway. We climbed up the two flights of stairs on the right side of the entrance, then turned left and up one more flight of stairs, into the control room. The control room had windows on three sides, and each window was reflective. Those inside the control room could see out of it, but to everyone outside, it was nothing but three mirrors. This was mainly to protect the secrets of how some groups worked their special effects. The room was also sound proof.

The inside of the control room was covered in buttons, levers, computers... There were three rolling swivel chairs, five pairs of headphones, and a fire extinguisher, as well as a number of small close-up monitors that would give a better view of what was happening on the stage. There was also a little radio on a filing cabinet in the back left corner that looked kind of like one truckers used. It was for announcements.

While Matt was studying the room, I took my place in one of the swivel chairs, grabbed up the radio, and spoke into the receiver.

"Alright guys." My voice boomed from the speakers set up around the concert hall, every word echoing. "Music and effects rehearsal one is starting."

I rolled myself over to the largest monitor that gave me a clear view of the entire stage, slid a pair of headphones around my neck, and gestured for Matt to sit in the chair closet to me. He was smoking, a habit I was actually kind of glad to see he hadn't broken. One thing that hadn't changed about us. Besides his goggles and my snappiness.

"Have you ever seen the inside of a control room?"

He pulled out the cig and blew smoke upwards, towards the vent. "Nope."

I bit my lip. This is going to be hard. He was a complete rookie, I was a shitty teacher who got impatient quickly, and we had... I glanced at my watch. Seven and three quarters of an hour. Okay then. I closed my eyes, thinking out all the tasks I'd put him at work with. I didn't think it'd be that hard to teach him, seeing as the guy was third in line for L's place, but intellect doesn't really measure timing, and that's something that takes a bit of time to learn.

"Um, okay, things without specific timing, things without specific timing..." I glanced around the control room, and finally spotted what I wanted. "Ah ha! Okay, wheel yourself over here and watch," I commanded, sliding over to the speaker controls.

"This one," I began, pointing to the largest button in the center of the speaker controls, "turns the speakers on. They're already on, so just press it again when I say to. And you're gonna have to press kinda hard, I kinda um... Spilled milkshake over there earlier... Ehehe..." He didn't look surprised, something I found sort of discouraging. "These three sliders here change the filtering, volume, and pitch. You don't have to touch pitch, make sure filtering is turned all the way down at all times unless I say 'up', and volume just needs to be kept deafening, but not eardrum shattering." I pointed to another button, smaller than the on button, but still bigger than most. "This is the censor button, don't even worry about it because our concert tonight is sixteen and older only. Um... Yeah, I think that's it. Just watch over these, adjust volume when needed, listen for 'up', and only touch the censor button if you feel like making somebody squeal."

He smirked at me, and I instantly regretted my words. "Dirty minded little- Oh, they're ready." I grabbed the radio receiver again, told them to begin, and slipped my headphones on over my ears. Matt did the same. I rolled myself back over to the main monitor and the special effects controls, cracked my knuckles, and positioned my fingers over the buttons, sliders, knobs and levers.

Looking up over the monitor, I couldn't help but giggle. Mello was sitting just off to the side of the stage, facing the exit, chomping down on a chocolate bar and mumbling to himself. He looked like he was ready to commit murder.


End file.
